blanket

you're not laughing
at my freezing toes
or the pink hearts
on my purple socks.

you're not witness
to romantic nights
with ginger tea
and tomorrow's reading.

you're not asking me
which song is next
beatles or p'njaabi
on your playlist or mine.

i'm stuck in a cold wave
but i doubt that has
anything to do
with the weather.

**

for me, because my proxy winter now includes a brand new pair of old socks and a third purple sweater. bring on the cold wave, i say!
also for m, because her winter apparently includes a scarf. tsk.

101

walk away, now.

leave behind your memories
in trinkets on the fridge -

a chocolate wrapper, long forgotten
a photograph, worn at the edges
a bill, for coffee and a book
a parking ticket, and its unfinished song.

but whatever you do, don't forget
to take your smells with you -

some beer, some whiskey
some food, some mint.
old books, cinnamon tea
is that you, or is that me?

momentarily

in the moment
between this minute
and the next
with the regularity
of the moon
my mind wanders
to you.

away

i'd rather keep
my dreams

safe in boxes
padlock them
and throw the keys
away.

if i give them
wings, what if
they fly
away?

dawn

stories are told
songs are sung
whiskey is drunk.

but when the night
is over

stories fade,
shadows appear

and

dreams
are all
that linger.

()

what
happens
to
stories
that
are scribbled
in the
margins?

would you
notice
them?
blue ink
and tiny
lettering
and abandoned
words

littering

pages
and
pages
of
monochrome.

erotica

your earlobes
are like aloo:
tasteless
but comforting.

i feel like doing something reckless.

like have sex with a stranger
or jump of a cliff.
or tell you that i love you
and then run away.

i feel like doing something destructive.

like have sex with a stranger
or jump of a cliff.
or tell you that i love you
and then break your heart.

verb: to do

you
make me.

you make me
want.

you make me want
to do

you.